


Sucks To Be Soulmates (With Oikawa)

by AzulRain



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulRain/pseuds/AzulRain
Summary: What is the best step to take with someone you've been in love with your whole life when you're about to leave them for college?Confess your feelings, obviously. (At least, if you ask Oikawa.)
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	Sucks To Be Soulmates (With Oikawa)

That reality . . . seemed entirely plausible. The reality in which Iwaizumi confessed his feelings to Oikawa, and Oikawa rejected them. It would be simple, to hide behind the cowardice of distance. His hand ghosted over his chest, over his heart, where he knew that tattoo was stitched in by fate. Perhaps it was a foolish desire, to want to pursue something further. Perhaps, if the feelings were reciprocated, those remaining days would be fleeting, more painful than anything else they’d ever experienced--yet, wasn’t all happiness temporary? Was it not foolish to say nothing at all? To reject him? Nothing lasts forever, anyways.

That is, unless you make it.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa called out quietly, almost caught off guard by the fragility of his voice. _Stupid. What was the point of getting cold feet now?_

The man in question hummed in affirmation that he’d heard his name, lifting his gaze from the mismatched plates full of takeout between them. It was a bit of a pathetic setup, Oikawa would admit; yet, if he was told he’d spend the rest of his life here, in this tiny apartment with the creaking floorboards and the rotting wooden chairs and Iwaizumi, he could almost be content.

_Almost._

“Have you not found your soulmate yet?” He couldn’t address it directly, after all, the roundabout question leaving his mouth before his true intentions could. “I mean, I _know_ you’re too ugly to have a girl actually fawn after you, but everyone has someone, anyways.”

A flash of irritation flickered in Iwaizumi’s eyes at the insult, but even more terrifying was the resignation. The resignation that told Oikawa that Iwaizumi knew that wasn’t his real question. He should have expected this outcome. After all, when Oikawa surrounded himself with walls, playing the role of some indestructible, charismatic genius, without faults . . .

Iwaizumi was the one who, truly, saw through it all.

“Drop the act already. What are you really trying to say?” His tone wasn’t aggressive, even if his words were. On the contrary, it was almost careful--throughout the years, they’d tiptoed around this subject, of soulmates, even though with most issues, they’d address it clearly the moment it was pushed under the light.

Still, the intensity in Iwaizumi’s gaze nearly made Oikawa shrink back from the topic. Hazel eyes searched brown as Iwaizumi seemed to seek out what was on Oikawa’s mind through body language alone.

Oikawa avoided eye contact, focusing his attention on the floor.

“I love you.”

He curled his hands into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He didn't dare look up, didn’t want to know how surprised or disgusted or pitying Iwaizumi would be. He bit his tongue. It was fine. This could be played off as a joke, and everything would remain the same. It would be fine.

A hand roughly reached out and ruffled his hair, and his head snapped up sharply without him meaning it to, trapping him in Iwaizumi’s stare, butterflies fluttering up into his chest. There was a warmth, a tenderness that filled those hazel eyes to the brim, leaving Oikawa incapacitated.

“Yeah. Me too.”

The plates clattered in protest as Oikawa practically threw himself forward, engulfing Iwaizumi in an uncomfortably tight embrace, forcing himself to stare ahead, his chin buried in Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Arms squeezed him with an equal strength, in that language of Iwaizumi’s that screamed of acceptance. He loved him too. He loved him too. It was reciprocated.

“Even with the distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though I’m leaving you behind for four years--maybe more?”

“Yeah.”

“Even if we’re not soulmates?”

There was a silence.

“Do you already have a soulmate, Iwaizumi?” That brief, consoling moment of security rotted away the moment the realization hit him.

“Well, why don’t we check?” Iwaizumi pat Oikawa’s back twice in rapid succession, a silent request for Oikawa to let go, and he obliged. He pulled his shirt off without warning, and although Oikawa had grown used to it from their days playing volleyball, he barely caught himself before he faltered and averted his gaze.

His soulmate tattoo was etched deeply into his chest, above where his heart was meant to be, a shield of blue and white accompanied by a suit of armor. There was this rumor: if you couldn’t be sure that you matched with your soulmate, touching their tattoo would tell you everything you needed to know.

Oikawa’s fingers traced around the shape of the shield, reminiscent of Seijoh’s colors. Tingles made his fingers tremble, and he almost felt as if his breath had been stolen away. He knew. And Iwaizumi could tell that too, he was certain, from the relief his relaxing shoulders revealed.

“A king and his knight . . . huh?” A slow, fazed chuckle pulled itself from Oikawa’s lips. This had to be a dream.

“You’re being awfully touchy,” Iwaizumi quipped.

“Ah--sorry. I was checking something. To make sure.” Oikawa removed his fingers immediately, cursing himself with a shake of his head.

“It’s fine. Just teasing you,” Iwaizumi snorted, picking his shirt off from the floor and slipping it back on.

“Iwa-chan.”

“It’s Hajime.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened at the invitation.

“You can call me Hajime.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, the side of his mouth quirking into an amused smile.

“You don’t feel the need to check for yourself?”

“I already know.”

The negativity, the what ifs, and the doubts in Oikawa’s mind merely melted away at the sincerity in Iwaizumi’s voice, the clear, bright determination in the other’s eyes.

“You’ll wait for me,” Oikawa got up to leave his spot across from Iwaizumi and lowered himself to his level, taking hold of his shoulders. “No matter how long it takes.”

“Of course, dumbass,” Iwaizumi nearly spat, eyes not wavering in the slightest. “Who do you think I am?”

Well, it wasn’t straight out of a fairytale. It wasn’t the perfect, dizzying first kiss that books romanticized. But it was better that way, actually. Oikawa’s hands slid up from Iwaizumi’s shoulders to cup his face as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Iwaizumi’s lips. Steady hands held him in place and helped Oikawa maintain his balance, supporting him as he chased this feeling, the feeling of the cage of butterflies in his chest bursting open, leaving him at the mercy of the warmth of Iwaizumi’s lips, the happiness and adrenaline rushing through him so profound that he couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face. The tears carressing his hands, that told him Iwaizumi felt it too. He’d never known lips could be so soft, that anyone could taste so sweet.

“I love you, Hajime,” He pressed their foreheads together with a small giggle, disbelief and joy taking away all his common sense, all reservations he had against vulnerable, open honesty.

“Yeah.” Fondness glimmered in those breathtaking, hazel eyes, as Iwaizumi smiled up at him, his fingers brushing themselves through his soft, dark locks.

“I love you too, Tooru.”


End file.
